Survival Of The Fittest

Nadia smirked.

"Not much. I'm just thinking there's probably an all-night diner open somewhere in this town. Maybe we could go look for it, then maybe get some pie, or maybe a hot fudge sundae. Then we can keep this conversation going in a much more pleasant atmosphere."

She shrugged.

"I don't know. Just a thought. It seems like the kind of place with less drunken teenagers and less Pitbull playing at ten decibels. What do you think?"

"Sounds good to me, and I'm sure there's a few places. I think Mr. D'z is open for a while longer if you're in the mood for a shake or anything."

The party had been going on for a couple hours but wasn't quite 8:30, so the diner would be open and it was no Denny's. Denny's was for people who'd given up, or stoners, or people up at 3 AM who had a great aching maw in their stomach that demanded immediate unconditional satisfaction. There was quite a bit of overlap between those categories. Oprah had eaten at Mr. D'z and loved it, not that Rod cared about Oprah; if you could ignore the bright pink and teal paint job, and didn't mind that the decor was a big old neon sign advertising that Kingman still thought it was 1959, the food was honestly really good there.

It didn't hurt that the people running it had been nice to him even before he'd become state champion. Nice enough he'd even let them talk him into giving them a little endorsement quote, one of his equivalents to Nadia's pizza commercial he supposed - hopefully those requests wouldn't snowball completely out of hand. Roderick was more of a home-cooked dinner guy, but some of the team liked to swing up that way after a hard practise, and the diner was used to the sight of Cochise athletes - plus, when something was good, it was good, and he wasn't ashamed to admit when he liked something. So while Roderick didn't go every day, he at least gave the place some consideration when he felt like eating out.

The best part? No beer or Pitbull.

Mr. D'z, huh? Nadia nodded at the suggestion. Sure, Mr. D'z was a bit kitschy, representing everything about the Route 66 culture that pervaded the southwestern U.S. On the other hand, it was still open, and they had good shakes and floats. It was pretty much what she had in mind.

"Alright. Mr. D'z it is," Nadia said.

Nadia was about to walk out, when she stopped.

"Um, do you have a car?" she asked. "I carpooled with some other people here tonight. Don't worry, I can let them know they don't need to give me a ride home tonight."

"Yeah, I'm parked out front. Right by the driveway."

His Challenger would be hard to miss, white with a black stripe down the middle. It was a year old and Roderick had it lovingly washed every week, allowing the white to practically shine for a while before the dust and sand started to obscure it again. Certainly nicer than a beat up pickup truck or whatever, but more importantly it was his. Any time he wanted he could just hop in and hit the road.

It was a freedom he hardly ever felt he had in Kingman, when he wasn't running or practising.

"Cool," Nadia said. "I need to go to the restroom, and I'll meet you outside."

Nadia walked to the door, then turned back to Rod, showing off the curves of her body with her walk.

"I'll see you in a few."

Nadia walked out of the room and through the party. It was almost a blur around her. She felt happy, and the rest of the party didn't seem to matter. Not the guy schmoozing the girl against the wall, not the guy being egged on while chugging, none of it mattered a damn bit. She just kept going until she reached the bathroom.

Thankfully for her, the bathroom was open. She half-expected people to be in their making out or puking in the toilet, but she must have arrived at the right time. She hurried in and made sure to lock the door behind her.

Going to the bathroom was a half-truth. She quickly walked up to the sink and began to check herself in the mirror. Going out with some guy she just met was an admittedly bold thing for her to be doing, so she had to at least make sure her hair and makeup looked decent. He had already seen enough of her, but maybe the lighting at Mr. D'z would be different.

God, look at you going crazy over a guy. The 11-year old you would be embarrassed.

"I'll be there."

Roderick watched her go, and by the look she shot him before walking off and the way she walked he suspected she intended him to do just that, then turned to make his own way through the party. Music droned on and the smell of stale beer danced around him, someone called to him and asked where he was off to but he waved them off and claimed to need a bit of fresh air. Not entirely false, that.

He ignored drunken revelling and a Cochise baseball player making out with some blonde on the sofa. Half-trashed seniors tossed darts at a board with teachers' pictures taped to it, a beer pong game earned a second look only because Roderick was surprised that was actually a thing, and awkward dancers shuffled away just as awkwardly when he moved right through their midst. None of them mattered right now. The world was his footsteps inaudible over the music, and his single-minded march to the door, slowed only when a couple nervously shouldered past him to slip through the exit first.

They left the door open for him and he relaxed a little the moment he was past the threshold, closing the door behind himself and taking a deep breath of crisp air. Kingman was still the desert, but it could get a refreshing chill in the late hours. Shoes crunched wet grass underfoot as he cut through the lawn to get to his car, parked just by the driveway like he said. The white paint seemed to gleam in the moonlight. Pitbull faded away while he took a seat on the bonnet, feeling the car shift just a little with the sudden weight, and looked down to Kingman.

This house was a little towards the edge of town and looked down on the "city" from a hill, a winding road leading towards the lights and sounds of what nightlife this place had. He'd spent enough evenings driving around just to drive around that he could probably get onto West Beale Street or Ella's Place within five minutes, then just coast by Locomotive Park or the Mohave Museum and there they were. Easy enough, especially with what little traffic he'd find, and with his route already taken care of he could just relax under the stars and wait, visualising the coming outing with Nadia as best he could.

The couple who'd cut past him had slipped into a car parked a little down the way from his, and he heard it begin rocking back and forth. He did the gentlemanly thing and pretended not to notice.

Nadia looked over herself in the mirror. Her hair looked pretty good.  It wasn't getting too frizzy from the humidity, and since she cut it about two weeks ago, it didn't have many split ends. Her makeup was also looking pretty decent as well. She could dab her brow with a bit of toilet paper to remove some of the sweat, but she didn't look too messy. She sighed as she looked in the mirror. This was it. She was going elsewhere with a guy. A guy who had managed to be way more interesting than everyone else here and way less crude.

Nadia walked out of the bathroom. She walked through the gauntlet of underage debauchery, trying to make sure no one else noticed her passing by. The last thing she needed was some prick to hit on her or someone to try and force a drink into her hands. She was getting out of here if it meant she had to leap out a window.

Fortunately, she could walk right out the door without dealing with any of these disasters-in-waiting. She looked out at the collection of cars scattered around the house. She could see one was rocking, leading Nadia to grimace and look away. Luckily, this allowed her to spy Rod sitting on the hood of his car. She walked over to him.

"Alright, let's get out of here before the police finally wise up and come over."

Oh, good, Nadia showed up. As much as he'd decided not to give the young lovers a hard time over it, having given in to temptation a few times himself, the squeaking of upholstery and muffled sounds of passion a few metres away had been digging under his skin and scraping across his brain not unlike nails across the proverbial chalkboard. Had nobody in Kingman heard of there being a time and a place? At least Nadia's expression had the same hint of disgust at the lack of tact as he felt somewhere deep in his guts.

When she spoke, it was a moment before he answered. She'd looked good in the house but the way the moonlight reflected off her skin and the confidence in her walk transfixed him. He managed to make eye contact at least, even if in the dark of the night it was possible to see him blink.

"I don't think they'd care too much, but good idea." Roderick found himself hoping the lovers a few cars down would finish their business before any police got involved, as he hopped off the bonnet and opened up the passenger door for Nadia. He calculated his speed with the care of someone stepping into a sleeping bear's den, not moving so fast as to seem desperate or overeager while keeping up the pace enough to not be too languid.

"Make yourself comfortable, it's not too long a drive."

"Gladly," Nadia said, taking a seat in Rod's car.

Rod had a pretty nice car. It was certainly better than most of the cars she saw around town. Most of them looked like they could fall to pieces if so much as bird shit it the hood of the car. Even when her sister was old enough to get a car, her parents were only able to afford a used car. It worked fine, but made some unpleasant noises going up hills. At the very least, Rochelle was nice enough to take it to LA so Nadia wouldn't be given it as a hand-me-down.

Nadia put the seat belt on. If Rod's car was similar to the class he displayed earlier, this would surely be a good diner run.

Roderick had seen some nice cars around Kingman, primarily because the Kanuho residence was in one of the nicer parts of town. In fact, there was a BMW parked just a bit ahead of his Challenger right now. However, most of said nice cars probably belonged to meth dealers. Or city government, so basically the same thing. There wasn't much love lost between the Kanuhos and certain members of the local government, due to his father's job. No outright hostility, but he'd met the county attorney and his family once at a dinner, and the reception had been a little frosty at best. The police and sheriff weren't too fond of people whose jobs it was to keep folks out of jail, either.

With a little nod, he gently shut the passenger side door behind Nadia and circled round, settling himself in and putting key in ignition on autopilot. His Challenger came alive with a great roar which judging by the sudden halt to the creaking and moaning briefly startled the lovers behind them, and soft classical music came through the radio and to his ears. Some people complained that kind of music would put them to sleep behind the wheel, but for Rod, it relaxed him just enough to really get into the drive.

"You can change the station if you want, up to you," Rod noted, just in a little show of consideration to Nadia given he had no idea what kind of music she was into. Who knew, maybe through her pick he'd learn a little something about her, or at least get a new conversation topic. She could do or say whatever she wanted, the next several moments were all on his mirrors as he backed away from where he was parking and tried not to bump into the lovers' car, then slid into drive and inched out of his spot.

From there, smooth sailing around and down the hill. He took it slow and gentle, this wasn't a race and she didn't seem like someone who'd be impressed by tearing out of here at a hundred miles per hour.

"I'm good with whatever you got," Nadia said, getting comfortable in the seat. "I won't mess with your pre-sets, so don't worry about that."

Nadia looked ahead as Rod began to drive the car smoothly down the road. This was quite a surprising move for her. For all she knew, this trip to the nearby diner would be a complete disaster and discourage her from leaving parties with guys she met there. On the other hand, she might get a really good milkshake and enjoy her time with Rod.

Either way, this would be quite an interesting experience.

((Nadia Riva continued elsewhere))

"Suit yourself."

He let Johannes Brahms play them out, going dead quiet until the party house began retreating into his rear view. Not to be unfriendly or anything, only because when he was behind the wheel, his focus became absolute. Much like all that existed on the wrestling mat was his opponent, only the road ahead was real when he was driving. Distractions were dangerous when you were sending several tonnes of metal shooting down a road at speeds humans weren't evolved to go. Once they were on relatively open road his grip on the steering wheel loosened just a tad, he stopped sitting quite so rigidly in the driver's seat, and a little trace of enjoyment showed in his expression again.

Roderick had been all but dragged to this party and he'd planned to half-ass it until he could slip away unnoticed and go home. Now, though, the fact he'd shown up was far nicer than the prospect of having stayed home all night. Funny how that worked, Nadia showing up just as he'd been thinking about making some excuse and getting out of there. Streetlights illuminated their path as they exited the little residential area and hit the main street, making the headlights of his car a mere formality. He would still have homework, and off-season practises and competitions to prepare for, maybe an MMA fight or two on the horizon, eventually exams and returning calls from college scouts who'd seen the state tournament and some of his performances last year, but tonight he could just enjoy. A boy and a girl going out for shakes and food and maybe more depending on how it went, just some normal fun.

He had a good feeling about it.

((Roderick Kanuho continued elsewhere))